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Sailing with Tall Ships: Journey from Savannah to New England a lesson in old-school seamanship

Pride of Baltimore II, left, a square topsail schooner nearly identical in design to Lynx, and the three masted schooner Alliance, right, sail out the Savannah River shipping channel past Tybee Island on the first leg of the Tall Ships Challenge. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

Lynx crew member Wendy Reid stands on the lower yard of the square topsail while under way to New England. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

Crew Brad Allain fires a cannon as Lynx passes by River Street in the parade of sail following the Savannah Tall Ships Challenge festival. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

Captain John Beebe-Center steers the square topsail schooner Lynx down the Savannah River following the Savanah Tall Ships Challenge. Astern of him is Pride of Baltimore II which is almost identical in design to though a bit larger than Lynx. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

A bit of the complex network of lines and blocks aboard Lynx as seen from the foremast. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

This is what you would have seen looking up from the deck of the original square topsail schooner Lynx in 1812. photo courtesy of johncarringtonphoto.com

A handful of staff and fellow volunteers from the Savannah Tall Ships Challenge wished us farewell as Captain John Beebe-Center steered the square topsail schooner Lynx away from the dock at the Savannah International Trade and Convention Center. A steady drizzle fell from dark gray clouds. But I was too excited to worry much about the weather. I could hardly believe they took me on as a volunteer crew.

The container ships and cranes at the port were a striking contrast to the ratlines and wooden masts of the tall ships assembling for the parade of sail down the Savannah River. As our turn approached, Capt. Beebe-Center ordered crewman Brad Allain to prepare a cannon for firing. When broadside to City Hall, the captain gave him the order.

“Fire in the hole,” yelled Brad as he pulled the lanyard. A thunderous boom echoed across the water, and a large cloud of smoke temporarily obscured the view. For a moment I imagined the destruction wrought on the unfortunate British merchant ships that found themselves in the cross-hairs of the original Lynx during the War of 1812.

At that time our young nation scarcely had a navy, so President James Madison waged an economic war against Britain. Privately owned ships like Lynx were presented letters of marque giving them license to seize British merchant ships. They were known as privateers.

And as “America’s Privateer” celebrating her bicentennial, the new Lynx is a symbol of American tenacity and enterprise on the high seas during a real David versus Goliath point in our nation’s history.

The crew of Lynx are part historic interpreter, but they are all sailor. And all hands were on deck during our triumphant departure with cannon salutes downtown, at Old Fort Jackson and near Fort Pulaski.

“Hands to raise the foresail,” commanded the captain, as the crew scurried about the foremast handling a dozen different lines; brailles, outhaul, sheets and preventer, all in a carefully synchronized performance. Initially, I just watched in bewilderment. More than a hundred lines ascend the two masts through various blocks to points on sails, yards, gaffs and booms. The working ends are belayed to a series of wooden pins mounted to the rails and at the base of the masts.

“Hands to raise the mainsail,” said the captain. 1st Mate Alex Ott repeated the command and then handed me the peak halyard.

“Haul away peak,” commanded the captain, “haul away faster.” I pulled as hard and as fast as I could until all my body weight could not wrest another inch. 2nd Mate Alex Peacock quickly organized a group effort and started the cadence as the ship was tossed back and forth through the pounding waves.

“When I say New, you say England, New,” we all replied “England” and with a huge heave ho we were under full sail and on our way to New England.

Pride of Baltimore II, a larger version of Lynx and arguably the fastest ship in the fleet, was not far behind us as we sailed past Tybee Island. The race was on. In close proximity were Duwaruci, HMS Bounty, Picton Castle, Peacemaker, Alliance and Coast Guard Barque Eagle. It would not be long before they all faded from view.

Unfortunately, the weather guessers got it right this time. The ship’s wind instruments measured a steady 30 knots from the northeast — most undesirable conditions, especially if you are trying to sail northeast. Several tacks and several hours later, we had only gone as far as the entrance to the Tybee Roads shipping channel.

It was apparent we could not complete the race within the time limit. So, for the next two days we alternately struck the sails and raised the sails, sailing when conditions permitted and motoring when they did not. We briefly came within sight of land as we passed the North Carolina outer banks.

The pounding waves made it difficult to sleep. And if you were lucky enough to catch a wink, the crew on watch would call all hands on deck to help with the sails. Even cook Kaari Sullivan came out on deck to help haul lines when conditions got really hairy.

What a relief it was when the wind finally shifted to the southwest. The waves that had beaten us in the nose were suddenly to our stern. Within minutes all the sails were set, and the rumbling of the diesel motor went silent. Lynx glided gracefully through the water as we sailed by and large with the following seas.

I completed my morning watch with the captain and crew mates, even taking the helm for a while. We ate lunch, and I tried to get some sleep before the watch.

When I came back up on deck later that afternoon, crew Wendy Reid was at the helm with a huge Cheshire cat grin. Wind velocity had increased throughout the day, and now the speed indicator showed 9 knots plus!

We sailed all night. Threatening storm clouds seemed to part in our way revealing the star filled sky. Looking up at the sails and rigging silhouetted against the moonlit sky, I felt as if it could be the year 1812.

A couple of days later it was land ho! Mantauk, N.Y., at the northeastern tip of Long Island, was to our port side and Block Island, R.I., was to starboard. I could almost taste a cold beer and a shot of rum.

That Sunday morning we sailed into Newport harbor with a barrage of cannon fire. We received a warm welcome from the other boats sailing by. Who doesn’t love a tall ship, especially in the home of the America’s Cup? After some routine boat maintenance, the captain released the crew for some well-deserved R&R. Littleneck clams, chowder, and local Narragansett beer were the fare of the day.

And for this Southerner, the northern hospitality of New England and the crew of Lynx could not have been better.